The Book of Terrus: The Ghosts of Goran

Chapter 9 - A Powder Keg

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"Vinie, come away from there!"

With a sigh, Vinie turned the wooden window slats and retreated back toward the center of the room. She had been watching the bustle of the streets outside Gideo's shop with unrestrained fascination. After ten years in the dark it was like discovering a whole world that was both new and old. Still, Bakko was right to be worried.

"Sorry Dad, I couldn't resist."

The anxious look on Bakko's wrinkled face eased somewhat into one of sympathy. Taking her hand, he led her further still away from the window.

"I know my girl, I know. You can't be seen though, neither of us can. The entire city is crawling with the Utunman Guard."

Before dawn that morning they had been jolted from sleep by a distant ringing of alarm bells. Apparently Gideo's painted figurehead hadn't made it past morning head count. Now there seemed to be soldiers all over the streets outside. Every few minutes a different group would jog past.

"Don't worry, things will die down soon enough," Gideo had reassured them before going downstairs to open up his shop. "We just have to keep our heads down and keep unwelcome attention at bay."

On a certain level, Vinie supposed it was a good thing that she had to stay hidden away indoors. Even the meager sunlight that peeked through the window slats was hard on her overly sensitive eyes. If she were free to go out and about in the town, Vinie doubted she would be able to hold herself back from running down to the seaside in all its sunlit glory. Still, sitting in Gideo's apartment all day was not exactly the freedom she'd dreamed of.

She and Bakko passed by time by talking, getting to know one another as father and daughter after a decade apart. Sitting cross-legged on Gideo's overstuffed sand chair, Vinie eagerly grilled Bakko for every possible piece of news regarding their friends and acquaintances. Bakko only asked her once about her time in prison. When Vinie hesitated to talk about the long, empty years alone he never pressed her on it again.

Around noon there came a bark from the street. Unable to resist, Vinie leapt to her feet and rushed to the window.

"Careful..." Bakko warned.

Lifting a single wooden slat with her finger, Vinie peered down into the street. A shaggy yellow dog was standing outside the door of Gideo's shop; the very same dog which had visited her in the prison.

"I think its Sahar's dog," Vinie exclaimed.

"Smart of her to send the dog instead of coming herself." Bakko came to stand beside Vinie, peering over her shoulder. "She took an awful risk, dancing like that last night. We can't have her showing up around here when she could be recognized."

Vinie watched through the window as Gideo stepped out onto the stoop of his shop. Kneeling down, he grabbed the mutt's head in a playful embrace, scratching at its jowls. The dog's tail wagged back and forth so forcefully its entire back end wiggled. Gideo gave the dog's chin a quick scratch. He then straightened up and the dog went trotting off to lie down in the shade. Vinie saw Gideo stick something into his belt before ducking back inside.

"Otch, what does it say?"

Vinie wanted so badly to run downstairs and accost Gideo right on the spot. From the sounds of things, he had a customer in at the moment. Frustrated but helpless, Vinie had no choice but to let Bakko talk her into sitting back down. Sipping on strong peppermint tea provided some distraction after nothing but bland seafood porridge for ten years. Still, the wait felt endless.